


Everyone has Secrets

by Lilachigh



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:17:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8042278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilachigh/pseuds/Lilachigh
Summary: In this Season Six, Buffy and Spike never had the confrontation in Seeing Red, so Spike never went to Africa.  But Tara still died and Willow went to the dark side.  Now Buffy and Spike have to clear out Tara's room. What they find will send them on a very unexpected journey.





	1. The Letter

Everyone Has Secrets by Lilachigh

 

In this story, Spike and Buffy never came to grief in Seeing Red and so Spike never went to Africa. Tara, however, still died and Willow still turned to the dark side. 

 

Chapter One: The Letter

 

The key turned stiffly in the lock and Buffy cautiously pushed at the door. For a second or two it refused to give way, until an impatient hand thrust itself over her shoulder and thudded the door open.

Buffy winced then stepped inside, refusing to admit that her heart was beating faster and there were tears in her eyes. The little room was immaculate - bed made up neatly, no dirty clothes on the floor, books piled on the desk. The drapes were pulled shut and she opened them to let the moonlight flood in. A layer of fine dust had settled over everything and the smell of cedarwood and carnation candles still hung in the air - the scent that spoke of Tara Maclay. She turned on a couple of lights and said, “Come in.”

“Where do we start?” Hands on hips, Spike stared round.

Buffy fingered a thin, cream lace shawl lain over the back of a chair. “Willow said pack it all up in boxes and she’ll sort it when she gets back from England. She said she couldn’t cope just now, not with the going mad and trying to destroy the world....”

“So it falls to you?”

“Most things do. You don’t have to help.”

“Yeah, like I’d let you do this on your own, Slayer!”

“Dawn offered.”

A smile flashed across Spike’s face. “I’m sure she did, but....”

“Too soon. The scars are still there from packing up Mom’s clothes and things.”

“What about your scars?”

A hand reached out and a finger rang down her cheek and across her lips. Buffy rubbed her head against his skin. “Oh, I’ve so many they sort of pile up on top of each other so you can’t feel the ones underneath any more.”

“Looks fairly straightforward. She didn’t have much, did she?”

Buffy tightened her hair back into a business-like knot. “She left some stuff at home. Look put clothes in one box, shoes in another. Books and papers. Oh and I’d better sort her mail. There may be bills. Rent and things.”

They worked in silence - Buffy had to admit she was impressed that Spike was folding and packing the few dresses and skirts with care. She’d imagined him throwing them into a bag, all jumbled up. But then he’d lived with Dru for years: perhaps he’d learnt how a woman’s clothes should be treated.

Spike glanced across at his lover, blonde head bent over a letter. Hidden scars - well he had a few himself but he also knew that nothing healed when it was concealed. Suddenly he frowned: Buffy had sank onto the bed and was staring down at the letter. “What’s up, pet?”

“This...this is really weird. I think....I think Tara was being blackmailed!”

“What!” He was at her side in an instant, sliding his arm round her shoulders. “Let me see.”

“I don’t see what else it could mean. No, I’m, just being stupid. There must be another sensible reason. Tara was the very last person - the very last - who would ever do anything....look, read it.”

“Dear Tara, What the heck is wrong with you? You didn’t answer my last letter. I know you said not to write but we need more money. Things are so expensive. You surely don’t want us coming to Sunnydale to ask for it in front of all your new friends, but if I don’t get some more dollars soon, Becca’s getting on the bus and you can tell her why the money’s stopped. And it’s signed, Patsy. Who the hell are Becca and Patsy? ”

Buffy looked at the envelope. “This came today. I suppose Tara never got a chance to answer the first letter before she....before Warren....”

Spike tightened his arm round her slim shoulders. “Obviously. It sounds like blackmail but god only knows for what. Do you think Red knows?”

“Let’s face it, if she’d even had the slightest hint, she’d have gone to L.A. and turned this Patsy and Becca into toads or spiders or ....”

“OK, I get the idea. Hey, at least they’re not that god-awful father and brother who we ran out of Sunnydale when they came to get her. Maybe they’re Wiccan friends from when she was young? Perhaps she did a spell she wasn’t allowed to do. But now Tara’s gone....there’s nothing these wankers can do about their money or their precious secret, whatever it is.”

“But Spike, what if they contact Willow when she gets back from England? She’s so fragile, so volatile. You know what Giles said - she has to live very quietly when she does come home. The last thing we need is for her to be confronted with something out of Tara’s past.”

Spike stared round the quiet, homely little room. He’d liked the girl so much. Looking at her had always calmed him down - she’d reminded him somehow of a home he could hardly remember, of honey spreading on buttered bread. He would have avenged her death himself if Willow hadn’t done it first. And it would have been so much better if he had. No one would have turned a hair about Warren being killed by a vamp. OK, it would have driven him crazy with the pain and all, but he would have suffered that for Tara.

“This is Tara we’re talking about. Can you imagine her doing anything that someone could blackmail her about?”

Buffy shrugged, moving away from the pressure of his arm. “We’ve all got secrets.”

“One she didn’t share with Willow?”

Memories flooded Buffy’s mind. “Sometimes you keep secrets from those you love the most so not to hurt them.”

“You and me being together is a pretty big one. Are you keeping it from everyone to save their feelings?”

Buffy stared at him, then shook her head. There was no way she wanted to get involved in that conversation at the moment. Then she felt a new flood of grief for the girl who’d died so abruptly, so horribly. Tara had known about her and Spike. And she hadn’t condemned or judged, just listened. OK, perhaps there was nothing she herself could do to ease Willow’s pain, but at least these evil people could be sorted.

She slapped the letter against her leg, her face grim. “Hey, let’s just concentrate on this problem. We’ve got the address. Can we drive to L.A. tonight? Find Patsy and Becca - and, I don’t know - tell them Tara’s dead and whatever hole they’ve crawled out of, they can just crawl back.”

Spike vamped out and back again. “They’ll be lucky to even be able to crawl, pet!”

And as angry as Buffy felt, she had a small twinge of sympathy for the unknown Patsy and Becca.

tbc


	2. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike are heading for L.A. to track down the women who seem to have been blackmailing Tara.

Everyone has Secrets by Lilachigh

 

Chapter Two: The Decision 

 

It was the following night when Spike finally swung the car he’d “borrowed” down a narrow side road and parked outside a small house, set back at the end of a muddy path. The porch steps looked well-worn and rickety and there was an air of neglect everywhere.

“Well, blackmail obviously doesn’t pay that well. I was expecting something a little more upmarket,” Spike commented.

“There’s a light on. Let’s go.”

“Wait up a second, pet. I’m all for the steaming right ahead and rushing in all fists blazing, as you very well know, but these aren’t vamps. I can’t sense any sort of demon presence, either.”

“Oh, just your normal, average crooks. How the heck did Tara get involved with them?”

“So, go knock on the door and I’ll sort of lurk in the background.”

Buffy found herself smiling for the first time in hours. Spike was so not capable of lurking in the background in any situation where a fight might occur. Her thoughts flashed back to the night before, when she’d gone back with him to his crypt and tried to forget about the letter, Tara and Willow trying to destroy the world in a frantic session of sex that had left them both exhausted but oddly calm. Her body still tingled, remembering what he’d made her feel and do. Well, perhaps ‘made’ wasn’t strictly true, if she was honest. She’d done a lot of the ‘making’ herself to him. And tonight she’d booked them into a motel because....well, because, of course, she didn’t want him driving all that way twice in a short time....and not because there would be a bed and anonymity and the time to indulge in whatever they wanted.

Pushing aside the memory that she was wearing no underwear - she really couldn’t afford to because Spike could get quite violent with the scraps that got in his way - she trod carefully up the porch steps and knocked on the door.

“Yes, can I help you?”

To Buffy’s surprise, a small, plump, very elderly lady was asking the question.

“Patsy?”

“Oh no, my dear, Patsy’s at work. I’m looking after Becca.”

“Becca’s a child?” Buffy felt Spike close behind her. So much for lurking!

The old lady looked surprised. “Yes, of course. Becca is nearly five.”

“And Patsy is her mom?” Buffy knew she was floundering, but this situation just got weirder by the second. What had Tara to do with a five year old....surely she couldn’t be....”

“No. Patsy is... Look, Miss..”

“Summers - Buffy Summers.”

“What do you want with Pat and Becca?”

“Can we come in? It’s a long story.”

“Well...”

“We’re quite harmless. Even my friend Spike here. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Watch it, Goldilocks,” came a murmur behind her. “Still Big Bad, you know, even if I am bloody well chipped.”

“OK, do come in, the both of you. I’ll make coffee.”

The family room was far from clean. There was obviously a cat somewhere because the chairs were covered in hair. A doll with a broken arm lay on the floor and a discarded colouring book. Mrs Goddard arrived back with coffee on a tray and gazed severely at Buffy over her spectacles.

“Now - what’s your interest in - oh! Are you from Miss Tara? Have you brought Patsy the money? She’ll be so pleased.”

“You know Tara Maclay?”

“Why sure, honey. Of course I do. My house is just down the street. I met her the day she brought Becca here to live with Patsy.”

Buffy felt a cold shiver run across her body. “So Tara is, was, Becca’s mom?”

“No, of course not. And why do you say ‘was’? You surely don’t mean...oh no, not that sweet girl! Was it an accident? Oh my, whatever will Patsy do now.”

“It was a sort of accident. We were close friends of Tara, but we knew nothing about Becca until we found Patsy’s last letter. That’s why we’re here.”

Mrs Goddard dabbed at her eyes. “She didn’t understand why the money had stopped coming. Every month, regular as clockwork, for all these years. And then nothing.”

“But you say Tara wasn’t Becca’s mom?”

“No dear, she was her aunt.”

Just then the front door banged opened and a tall girl with a mass of platinum curls, wearing high-heeled scarlet shoes, shorts and a tank top that left very little to the imagination came in. Buffy felt Spike stir beside her and glared at him, ignoring the innocent gaze he returned.

“I heard outside. I’m Patsy. I’m sorry about Tara, but what the heck do I do now about the kid?”

Mrs Goddard had gone by the time Patsy had poured herself a large glass of red wine and sat in the chair opposite Spike, her feet on the coffee table, giving him a full view of practically everything she had on offer. She lit a cigarette and fluttered her eyelashes at Spike.

“Becca’s mom is my step-sister, Jan. She was Tara’s best friend at school, right from when they were little kids. They got into all that Wiccan rubbish together. Thick as thieves. Then, when they were seventeen, Jan got pregnant by Donny, Tara’s brother.”

“A guy we’ve met,” Spike put in, rubbing his knuckles.

“Oh yeah, so you know he’s a real prince! Him and their father treated Tara like a servant after their mom died. And I’m certain Donny thought Jan was going to be another slave in the household. Anyways, Jan had the baby and thought Donny was going to marry her. But hey, she was never good enough for the Maclays! Then...I don’t know exactly what happened, but one night Tara and Jan arrived here with Becca - she must have been about one then. Jan said she had to leave California, that Donny would kill her if she stayed, but she couldn’t take Becca with her and she certainly couldn’t leave the baby with him and would I look after her.”

“And Tara paid you to do just that,” Buffy said flatly.

Patsy looked affronted. “Hey, I had a good career I gave up for little miss princess. I’m a dancer. I was going places. My big break was just around the corner. So hey, what if I was paid. I’ve done it all these years, but there’s no way I can do it if the money has stopped. Becca will just have to go back to her father. Donny might have grown up a bit since then.”

“Did he never come looking for them?”

Patsy shook her head. “Even if he remembered me, I’d moved around a lot before I came to L.A. Only Jan knew where I lived. He probably thinks Becca is still with her mom.”

“Won’t you miss her?” Spike’s voice was close to a growl and Buffy automatically reached for his hand and held it to stop him standing up. “She’s been with you for four years.”

Patsy shrugged and stubbed out her cigarette. “I’m not into kids. I only did it because Jan and Tara asked me to. I even put up with the kitten Tara brought for her last year. I’ll be glad to get that thing out of the house. It’s demented.”

She’s spent most of the cash on herself, Buffy thought, gazing round at the shabby room, thin rugs hardly covering the bare boards. The only expensive item was a huge TV in the corner and although she didn’t like them, Buffy knew the rings, ear-rings and red stiletto shoes had cost Paula a fortune. A fortune that Tara had provided, probably. No wonder she had had no money to contribute when she and Willow had been living in Ravello, looking after Dawn. Buffy could only imagine how hard that had been for Tara and wondered why on earth Willow hadn’t asked a few more questions of her lover. But perhaps she had and Tara had lied. Secrets, well kept, as Buffy knew only too well, could cause a lot of trouble if they came to light.

“So Tara’s dead and there’s no money. Did she leave a Will? Perhaps she left Becca something in that.”

Buffy shook her head. “We never found a Will. She was my age. She didn’t expect to die.”  
‘Not like me,’ she added silently, remembering that her Will had been written the week after her own mom had passed away. ‘I’m always surprised to be alive.’

“That’s that then. I’ll pack Becca’s things and contact the Maclays in the morning. Unless...” she looked at them, a question on her hard face.

“I’ve no money,” Buffy said, standing up and heading for the door. “I have a little sister to support.” 

Spike didn’t speak on the drive back to the motel. Buffy could sense the anger building inside him and wasn’t surprised when he tore off his duster and flung it across the room the second he stepped over the threshold.

“Of all the wastes of space - I’ve met demons with more humanity than that woman. Darla had more humanity than....” He stopped, glanced at Buffy’s raised eyebrows and shrugged. “OK, perhaps not. But it would have been worth the chip firing in my bonce just to bite her!” He threw himself onto the bed and began dragging off his boots. 

Buffy sat down next to him, for once not thinking Spike - bed - oh good. “Why didn’t Tara tell us? Tell Willow at least. She had a niece all these years and kept her hidden away. Why?”

Spike’s T-shirt followed his duster in a vicious throw across the room. “You know what the old saying is, pet. Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. I imagine she was terrified that Donny or her father would discover where she’d hidden Becca. They didn’t strike me as the type of people who would take kindly to one of their possessions being stolen away, and I reckon that’s exactly how they would have thought about the kid.”

“I wonder what they did to make her run in the first place? And where’s this girl Jan? Isn’t she interested in her own child? Jeez, Spike, Dawn’s only my sister but I still worry about her and she’s almost grown up now.”

Spike reached up and pulled her down to lie on top of him, his hands working up under her top to run across her bare flesh. “Nothing we can do about it tonight, Slayer. You, me, bed - no one to interrupt us. God, I’m going to make you scream.” He tugged her T-shirt over her head and growled, his fingers running over her skin, making her gasp.

“I need to talk to Willow,” she began and then her reason went awry as his hands tugged her jeans down and began to send her on that journey to insanity that he did so well.

It was late the next afternoon when they drove back to the little house, a gloomy day with rain in the air. Buffy felt wonderful, tired and aching in all sorts of weird places, but still wonderful. She’d had no sleep. Every time she thought they were finished and she was sinking into oblivion, Spike would touch her, insisting on her giving everything to him one more time. And then he’d fallen asleep and she’d delighted in kissing him somewhere he’d least expected, laughing at the look on his face as he awoke.

“So, Slayer, we’re going to offer to pay for the kid’s keep, like Tara did. Not sure how we’re going to manage that, but reckon you’re right.”

“Everyone will help. Xander, Anya, Giles and of course Willow when she comes home. They all loved Tara. I mean how much can Paula possibly want to keep one little girl fed and clothed. Whatever it takes, Tara wanted her away from the Maclays and that’s what we’re going to do. Becca’s all we have left of her now. I just hope Patsy will let us meet and talk to the kid.”

Spike braked hard. “Well, I don’t think you’re going to have any problem with that.”

Buffy followed his gaze. On the top step of the porch sat a little girl with long, tangled amber hair wearing a shabby red raincoat. There was a small suitcase by her feet and clasped in her arms a large, irritated cat.

 

tbc


	3. Guardians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike and Buffy have arrived home with Becca, Tara's secret niece, but the reaction from their friends and family is mixed!

Everyone has Secrets by Lilachigh

 

Chapter Three: Guardians

 

“But Buffy - you can’t just pick up some little girl in Los Angeles and drive off with her!” Xander stared at his friend as if she’d suddenly grown another head. In fact he could have coped better with that situation than the one facing him now. “It’s kidnapping! You’ll be arrested.”

“So you reckon I should just have left Tara’s niece sitting by herself on the porch steps easy prey for any demon or pervert that came along? This is Tara’s family, Xander. What the heck would Willow say if she knew I’d just left her there?”

“But Buffy - “

She cut him off before he could say any more. Jeez, if she had a dollar for every time one of her friends started a sentence with ‘But Buffy’, she’d be rich! “Becca’s here now. She was quite happy to come with us. Seems the Patsy creature had told her to sit and wait for friends to collect her. Spike wants to go back and bite her! How could you just leave a kid on her own like that? So we'll be her guardians until we know what's going on.”

“And the cat? I have a bad feeling about the cat.” Anya gazed suspiciously across the room to where the huge black creature was sitting washing itself, ignoring with supreme disdain, everyone else in the room.

“Apparently she wasn’t coming without it.”

“Read the letter again,” Dawn’s voice sounded tight and Buffy sighed silently. She so hoped she wasn’t going to have trouble with her sister. 

“It was pinned to her raincoat. From Patsy saying that she had to leave town suddenly on work, that the neighbour, Mrs Goddard, who usually looks after Becca couldn’t this time and she was sure we wouldn’t mind for a few days as we had been close friends of Tara. So, she’s here until Patsy comes back.” And she didn’t say out loud that Spike reckoned they would never see or hear from her again. That was the last thing Dawn needed to hear.

Dawn was sorting through the little girl’s suitcase. “And is this all she’s got? Just a couple of pairs of old jeans and tops and some worn out pyjamas?”

“Well, that shows that she’s only here for a visit,” Buffy said brightly, not wanting to tell her sister that she thought those were the only clothes Becca owned.

“But Buffy, you have to tell someone in authority that she’s here.”

“Why?” Spike was coming down the stairs and his voice cracked like a whip. “Do you really think Patsy told officials in L.A. that she was looking after Becca and getting good money to do so? I reckon no one knows anything about the kid”

Xander banged both fists on the table. “I really don’t know what you’re doing here Spike and no one asked for your opinion anyway. So just shut it!”

Ignoring him, Spike went on, “I’ve put her to sleep on your bed, Slayer. She needs a bath but reckoned that was your department.”

“Well it certainly isn’t yours! And I repeat, what the hell are you still doing here?”

Buffy took a deep breath and from the confusion of her mind, settled on one clear, golden thread of certainty. She’d known this moment would arrive, known she would have to deal. Wide awake at nights, she’d made up speeches that were sensible and logical, full of clear, calm conclusions, explaining to her friends why she was in a relationship with a vampire. Again! That she realised they would be concerned, but there was no need, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“He’s here because I want him to be,” she snapped back at Xander, all her calm thoughts vanishing in a flash. 

“OK, so I suppose he might come in useful if Becca’s own family come to try and find her one day, but....”

“I don’t think that’s what Buffy means.” Anya was gazing intently from the Slayer to the vampire and back again. “She means she wants him here, sweetie. Like I want you every night and you want me every morning when we...”

“But Buffy...”

“Anya’s right.” She took a deep breath. “Spike and I are - together - and the quicker we all get used to the idea, the better. And anyway, I couldn’t pull Becca away from him. I had to drive home so she could sit on his lap.”

The vampire looked bashful. “Only because I was telling her fairy stories, pet. And nice ones,” he said swiftly, “fairies and pixies, no demons or goblins.”

All the colour had drained from Xander’s face: he ran both hands violently through his hair and stood up so abruptly that the chair crashed backwards onto the floor. “OK, this is pure madness, Buff. He’s a vampire! OK, chipped, but a souless vamp. Even Angel had a soul. It’s...it’s indecent....dangerous...insane. There must be something wrong with you. Willow brought you back wrong. I’m going to phone Giles in England. He has to come back and sort you out. Are you coming, Anya?” He stormed out of the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

Anya sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to go after him and calm him down. Just when things were getting really interesting. It’s all your fault, Buffy. You should have cured him of this infatuation he has for you years ago.”

“That went well, pet!” Spike pulled Buffy into his arms and rubbed his chin across the top of her head. “You might have given me some warning. Are you certain, Slayer? This is a big step. You might have lost all your friends in one go.” He reached out behind her back towards Dawn. “And what about you, Niblet? Are you OK with me moving in with your sis?”

Dawn shrugged. “Sure. I mean everything’s so weird since Tara died and Willow and Giles went away...now Becca’s here...and Spike’s moving in. Xander hates you and Anya will be on his side, whatever she really thinks. So sure. I’m OK, I’m going to bed. Maths test tomorrow. I suppose my room is still my room?”

“Of course it is. Becca’s in my old room and me and Spike will move into Willow and Tara’s.”

“You mean Mom’s.”

Buffy bit her lip. “Yes, I mean Mom’s. Nothing’s going to change for you, Dawn. Surely you can see that.”

The teenager tossed back her long hair in a gesture she’d copied carefully from one of her favourite TV heroines. “Sure, no problem. I have a new baby sister, all our old friends have left or will be leaving and there’s no way I can invite my ordinary friends here because they wouldn’t understand about Spike even if I explained it to them. Jeez, you’re so right, Buffy. Nothing’s going to change!”

There was a silence after her footsteps had vanished and they heard the bathroom door slam loudly behind her and the distant hiss of the shower.

Spike wandered into the kitchen, searching in the fridge for the blood he knew Buffy always kept in there for him. “Don’t worry, Slayer. She’ll come round and be fine. I bet she’ll enjoy having a little sis when she calms down.”

Buffy shook her head: she knew Dawn too well. The teenager was only too ready to find any excuse for an argument. “She’s very fond of Xander. She’s upset that he’s upset.”

“I thought she liked me.” 

Buffy could have sworn there was the hint of a pout in her lover’s voice. “She does, of course she does. But you’re mine now and she sees that but doesn’t understand that you can give her your affection, too.”

Spike’s hands flashed out and spun her into his arms. “Is that what I am? Yours?”

Buffy flung back her head, her gaze blazing straight. “You didn’t know? I’ve just told the world you’re moving in and you’re doubting that I - “

The rest was lost as his mouth claimed hers and he backed her effortlessly against the fridge door, his hands plundering under her clothes, seeking and finding flesh, seeking and giving her the pleasure she desired so much. Her legs lifted to wrap round his thighs and she reached down to....

“I’m hungry.”

Spike spun away so quickly that Buffy’s feet clattered to the floor and she almost fell. Becca stood in the doorway, clutching the cat firmly round his middle, his head and feet hanging limply in either direction.

“Mrs Goddard says you shouldn’t play rough games in the kitchen,” she went on, gazing at them disapprovingly. “You break things and there’s no money for new ones.”

“Er...er... yes, well, Mrs Goddard is right,” Buffy said, tucking her top back into her jeans and trying not to laugh because Spike had turned his back on both of them and from the muttered cursing was obviously having trouble getting himself sorted. “Hot milk, Becca?”

The little girl dropped the cat who promptly started washing himself again. “Can I have chocolate? If I’m very good, Mrs Goddard gives me that when she sits for me when Patsy’s out.”

“OK, then you go straight back to bed.”

“I needed cat. I left him down here.”

Buffy frowned as she found a Disney mug. “I don’t think he’s supposed to sleep in your room.”

Dark eyes turned darker. “Yes, he does - always. There’s only a silly pig in that room. I need cat.” Tears brimmed and ran down her face. 

Buffy glanced wildly at Spike; she had no idea of what was the right thing to do and this was only the first night. How did you learn this parenting stuff? How had her mom known? Was there a book?

Spike shrugged. “Sounds as if that’s what normally happens, pet, so just go with it. You don’t want her upset tonight. She’s having too much of an upheaval to start changing little details.”

They stood side by side watching as Becca drank her hot chocolate. “Good thing she didn’t come downstairs a few minutes later,” Spike murmured wickedly. “I don’t think you would have had an innocent explanation for what we were doing.”

“Nothing happens between us from now on except in our bedroom,” Buffy hissed.

Ten minutes later she half carried the little girl upstairs, the cat bounding at their side. Becca was asleep by the time Buffy pulled the quilt up over her thin shoulders and the cat sprang up next to her. Buffy expected it to curl up and sleep but, to her surprise, it sat upright on the pillow above the child’s head.

As she left, turning down the light, she saw two green eyes gleaming in the dark and the odd thought flashed through her mind - it was almost as if the animal was on guard.

tbc


	4. Parenting Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike have brought Becca, Tara's 5 year old niece, back to Sunnydale, but coping with her when they have just decided to move in together as a couple proves difficult.

Everyone has Secrets by Lilachigh

 

Chapter Four: Parenting Pains

 

“So what did Willow say?” Spike’s head was still buried in the dark blue silk pillow (Buffy wondered fleetingly when she’d actually bought dark blue bedding) and she could hardly hear him.

She fought back the nearly overwhelming temptation to smack the curve of his backside because she knew if she did he would only pull her down next to him and he start of her day would be dreadfully delayed. “She was confused, angry, worried, oh all sorts of things all mixed up together. She had no idea that Becca existed and I think that upset her more than anything.”

Spike rolled over and sat up. “I can understand that, pet. We were pretty freaked out when we discovered Tara had been keeping such a big secret from us all this time. It must have been ten times worse for Red. So, is she flying back?”

Buffy shook her head: she eased the drapes back an inch or two, then dropped them back as Spike hissed at the bright sunlight that darted into the room. “Sorry! Sorry! No, she says she’s too involved in some sort of cleansing, controlling your mind and actions thingy that Giles has got her involved with. Apparently it’s vitally important that she finishes the course or project, whatever, otherwise she might destroy the world again.”

“Always a plus. So no great desire to bond with Becca, then?”

Buffy shrugged and pulled on her boots. Apart from the anger and hurt, there had been some other tone in Willow’s voice that she hadn’t recognized. She sighed; life would be so straightforward if it just consisted of killing demons and staking vamps! Emotions and feelings - never her strong point. “It was a bad connection - lots of hissing and spitting on the line.”

“Did you speak to Giles?”

“No - he wasn’t there. Xander rang him last night, so Willow said, but Giles has been away for a couple of days.”

“Xander’s a prize prat!”

“He doesn’t mean to be.”

Spike pulled the quilt over his head and mumbled, “Might not mean to, but that doesn’t stop him. I’m going back to sleep. You wore me out last night. Not getting up yet. Come and join me.”

Buffy frowned. “I have to look after Becca. She’s our responsibility now. At least until Willow gets home.”

“Agreed, pet. But there’s not a lot I can do during the day, is there? And what I know about small girls and how to look after them could be written on the back of a very small postage stamp. Dru and Darla only wanted to eat them and I won’t even begin to tell you what your first beloved would have don....”

“OK! OK! Enough with the memories. Go to sleep. I’ll see to Becca.”

Buffy went downstairs, trying to push aside a weird confusion in her mind. Living with Spike had seemed so right - was so right! - but sometimes they came crashing up against problems neither of them had ever imagined. OK, everyone who started living with a partner surely discovered the same thing, but when one of the couple was a vampire, it gave a whole new meaning to the word compromise! She’d never really questioned before how they would live together when one slept during the day and the other didn’t. But now she had to face the fact that she had a child in the house to wake up. She would need a shower because last night she’d been fast asleep in her clothes as soon as Spike put her down on the bed and Buffy hadn’t had the heart to wake her up. So, wash, dress and then - well, what exactly was she going to do with her?

To her surprise, she found Becca already up, wearing the same clothes as the day before, sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal. Dawn was sitting on the other side, studiously ignoring the little girl. She’d made herself a cup of black coffee and was sipping it, trying Buffy felt with a silent grin, to look as grown up as she possibly could. But the grimace she made at every sip rather ruined the performance.

“Hi Becca. Did you sleep OK? I was going to make you pancakes. Tomorrow, then. Hey, you’ll be late for school, Dawn.”

Her sister stared at her in astonishment. “It’s Sunday!”

“Oh yes, of course it is. OK, well, what shall we do. Becca needs some new clothes so we could all go to the mall and - ”

Dawn stood up, pushing her chair back violently and almost treading on Becca’s black cat that hissed at her and leapt for the counter top. “I thought we didn’t have any money!”

“Dawn - be fair - you saw for yourself last night - she can’t walk around in rags.”

“Oh do what you like. I’m not coming. I’ve got plans for today. I’m going to a friend’s.”

Buffy fought down a wave of irritation. She’d known this was going to be difficult for her sister, but surely she’d come round in time. “OK, just let me know where you’ll be and be back before dark because I’ll have to ask you to look after Becca tonight because Spike and I must patrol. The Sunnydale vamps will think it’s some sort of vacation with all the nights off they’ve been getting recently.”

“What are vamps?”

Buffy froze. She’d completely forgotten the little girl was still sitting quietly at the table, obviously listening.

“Oooh yes, Buffy! What are vamps? Do tell us.” Dawn was swinging the kitchen door backwards and forwards, smiling.

Glaring at her sister, the Slayer said, too brightly, “Oh you needn’t worry about vamps, Becca. They are nasty people and Spike and me have to....well....round them up and make sure they go away. Far away.”

“Oh. I’ve got a magic charm that stops nasty people hurting me.”

“Magic?” Dawn and Buffy spoke together.

Becca scrabbled inside her grubby T-shirt and pulled out a little gold cross on a chain. “I have to wear it always. Patsy wanted it but I screamed and screamed when she tried to take it off and so she stopped. My real mommy gave it to me when I was a little baby.”

“That was....very sensible of your mommy,” Buffy said, trying to keep her voice from wobbling. “Do you...does your mommy phone you, Becca?”

The little girl scraped the last bit of cereal into her mouth and put the bowl with some milk left in it down on the floor for the black cat. “No,” she spluttered. “But Patsy said she will come and collect me one day soon.”

Buffy beckoned Dawn into the family room. “I reckon Patsy wanted to sell the gold cross,” Dawn said indignantly, her former irritation vanishing. “Spike was right to want to go back and bite her!”

“I wonder how Jan, Becca’s mom, knew about vampires. I suppose the dreadful Donny told her.”

“Don’t call him dreadful in front of Becca,” Dawn said smugly. “He’s still her father. I know you find it hard to believe, Buffy, but most girls love their fathers very much, no matter what they’ve done!”

Buffy opened a little box in her brain labelled Hank Summers and stared inside. All the love she’d ever felt for her father was stored in there: she never let it out to see the light of day. A picture of herself on a carousel swam to the top of the box, her dad standing, waving happily as she swept past on a golden horse. Waving, smiling, looking at her with love - Buffy slammed the lid shut. There was no place in her life now for memories like that. Hank Summers had left his wife and daughter because her behaviour had been so dreadful in the months leading up to discovering she was the Slayer. It had all been her fault and never once had her mom blamed her. But she blamed herself. Always.

So did Dawn feel like that about Hank, a man who’d never fathered her, had no connection with her at all, except in those dreadful, emotional ties that the monks had installed in her memory?

“Becca doesn’t remember her father. She was only one year old when Tara and Jan took her to live with Patsy.”

“Still her father!” Dawn muttered mutinously.

“What about our dad? How much to you remember him?”

Dawn’s lips tightened and when she spoke it was with a careless attitude, as if she found the whole subject boring.

“I remember lots - all the things we used to do together, the places we went to eat, trips to the mall, ice-skating, bowling, even a visit to the sea. I remember crying for a week when he left, but of course that didn’t happen, did it, because I wasn’t there. I suppose they are your memories that the monks gave me, but to me they are real. Dad was there, he loved me and left home because he couldn’t cope with you being a Slayer.”

Buffy felt a wave of compassion - because Dawn was right; she’d never experienced any of those things - and irritation sweep over her. “But he never knew I was the Slayer. OK, I wasn’t the easiest of teenagers to live with, but hey, Mom managed OK.”

“Too late to change things now. I’m heading out to Janice’s. And yes, I’ll be home early to babysit little girl who isn’t going to alter my life at all! Oh, and your jeans are covered in cat hair. Just saying.”

Five hours later, Buffy collapsed onto the sofa and shut her eyes in complete exhaustion. She didn’t remember ever being this tired in all her life. Vampires, demons, apocalypses - or should that be apocalypsii - she didn’t know and didn’t care - all she did know was that nothing was as tiring as taking a bouncy five year old round a shopping mall, trying to find cheap, serviceable clothes that the child would wear. Pink! Given a choice for the first time in her life, all Becca wanted was pink jeans, pink shoes and pink T-shirts.

“Good day, pet?”

Buffy squinted an eye open and glared at her lover who stood smiling dow at her, bare chested, blond hair a mass of curls, looking incredibly desirable and incredibly annoying.

“Have you been asleep all day?”

Spike raised an eyebrow at her tone. “Well, yes. What us vampires tend to do. But I’m awake now. Becca’s eating cereal in the kitchen. Shouldn’t she be having - I don’t know - some sort of healthy meal? With vegetables?”

Buffy wondered dreamily if it would be too bad of her to stake Spike where he stood, over and over and over again. “We had lunch in the mall. She ate chicken and some salady stuff. I’ve no idea what five year olds eat. She drank a lot of milk. And when did you become the food expert of Sunnydale?”

“Snippy, snippy Slayer.” He grinned and sat down next to her. She closed her eyes, too tired to fight him off, leaning against the chill of his chest and hoping she need never move for the next few hours. 

“That cat’s looking at us with great disdain,” Spike said a few minutes later. “I don’t think it approves.”

“Cat food! I knew I forgot something at the store. It’s probably hungry.”

“I’m hungry - for lots of things,” Spike murmured, kissing the side of her neck, just letting his teeth graze along the skin, knowing it made her shudder with desire, no matter how tired she was.

“Can I watch cartoons?” Becca, her new pink T Shirt already stained with milk and cereal, picked up the cat and wedged herself between them on the sofa. “Patsy always lets me.”

Spike grinned at Buffy over the child’s head and gestured towards the stairs and their bedroom. “I think you could do with a nice lie down, Slayer,” he said smoothly. “Nice comfy bed, nice dark room, all sorts of things you’ve only ever dreamt about might come your way.”

Buffy jumped up and turned on the TV. “Never going to to happen!” she said brightly. “Dawn will be home soon and you’d better put some clothes on because we’re going patrolling.”

She grinned at his disappointed expression: OK, she’d make it up to him later. She was never that tired after patrolling. In fact she was always full of energy and passion and...she stopped her thoughts because she could tell from the gleam in Spike’s eyes that he knew and smelt exactly what she was thinking about!

Hours later, Dawn was talking on the phone to one of her friends. Becca had gone to bed without any problems: Dawn had the feeling she was supposed to give her a bath, but she didn’t look that dirty and she was asleep almost before Dawn pulled the quilt up over her shoulders. 

When the door bell rang, she told her friend she’d see her at school and rang off. Suddenly she felt cold and nervous. The last thing Buffy had said before she left was to keep the door locked all the time until she and Spike came home. But it might be Xander and Anya, of course. She could let them in. The bell rang again. Xander would have called out by now, told her he was standing there, not getting any younger and hey, he had ice-cream which was melting.

“Hello in there! Are you home, Buffy? It’s Donny Maclay. I’ve come for my daughter. Open up, Buffy. This is important. Becca’s in great danger.”

Dawn gasped. She remembered Donny, Tara’s brother, from the time when the whole Maclay family had arrived in Sunnydale to take Tara home with them. No one had liked him. Spike had punched Tara to show them that she was all human, no demon in her at all. 

But Donny was Becca’s father! And he was saying his daughter was in danger. He must love her, of course he must. Perhaps he hadn’t known where Tara had taken her and had just found out in some way. How dreadful he must be feeling. Her own dad would surely be horrified if she’d vanished without any trace. 

She moved towards the door as a sharp knocking followed another ring of the bell. Reaching for for the key, she yelped in pain as the large black cat sprang onto her arm and slashed at her wrist, claws drawing blood!

 

tbc


	5. Finding Jan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donny has tried to take back Becca, his little daughter but been thwarted by the guardian cat!

Everyone has Secrets

by Lilachigh

 

Chapter Five: Finding Jan

 

Buffy glared at her sister, half in anger, half concern, as Spike examined the scratches on Dawn’s arm. She couldn’t believe what she’d just been told. Jeez, she’d only left the house for a couple of hours - and pushed the guilt down deep that reminded her of the hour she’d spent with Spike on top of one of the tombstones in the graveyard. An hour during which trouble had landed itself at her door once again.

“Don’t panic, they’re not deep, Slayer. Cat’s claws just grazed the skin. Hardly any blood at all.” He shut his eyes for an instant because even the little smear left on Dawn’s skin was enough to send his hunger racing.

“At least you didn’t open the door!” Buffy had arrived home to find Dawn nursing her arm and the big black cat sitting innocently on top of the TV, washing a paw. Xander and Anya were eating pizza. Dawn had apparently phoned them which was probably the most sensible thing she’d done that evening. They’d treated her arm - Buffy knew that her mom’s medicine cabinet held everything they would ever need. She’d had to deal with Buffy’s cuts and bruises for years. For a long second she found herself desperately wishing once again that Joyce was still alive, that there was someone else to turn to, ask for help, rely on.

Dawn pulled a face. “I might have, because hey, Donny is Becca’s dad, but the cat from hell just sat there in front of it and wouldn’t let me near.”

Buffy sighed and glanced at Spike. “It looks like a real cat. Is it? Not a demon cat?”

Spike shook his head. “No, pet. I’d have sensed that ages ago.”

“Me too,” Anya said brightly. “Not a demon cat. Just - you know, black and dangerous.”

“And Donny Maclay just went?”

Dawn nodded and yawned. “I’ve told you and told you! He said his daughter was in great danger and that he’d come for her.”

“And like I said before, there was no one around when we got here,” Xander added. “No car or van. Nothing. He’s gone for now.”

Buffy sighed. “OK, we’ll deal with this. Dawn, go to bed. And don’t wake Becca.”

“Who apparently slept through the whole incident,” Spike said. 

“I checked,” Xander said. “She’s a cute kid, even though I still think you should have left her where she was. We haven’t got any money to bail you out of gaol, Buffy, when you get arrested for kidnapping! Anyway, how did Donny know she was here?”

“I suppose he asked that old lady who lived next door to Becca and she mentioned me and Spike coming to call. Any description of us would have reminded him.”

“I wonder if the Maclays have kept an eye on Tara all these years,” Spike said. “We chased them off easy enough, but they seemed like the stubborn sort to me.”

Buffy shrugged. “They were invited to her funeral, of course. Giles went in person to tell them before the police could. He thought that was the right thing to do. They said they were very, very sorry but they didn’t come.”

“There was a wreath,” Anya added, remembering. “Small, sort of poor looking. I noticed. Ours was very big and very expensive. We liked Tara.”

“We all liked Tara,” Buffy sighed. “And Willow loved her. That’s what makes this little girl so important. We can’t just hand her back to her awful father when we don’t know why Tara was so determined to get her away from him in the first place.”

“Not just Tara,” Xander said swiftly. “You told us that her mom, Jan, was with Tara when they took the kid to Patsy’s. That’s who we should be looking for. She should be the one to decide where Becca lives. For all we know, she might be horrified to find out you’ve taken her.”

Buffy frowned. For once Xander was making a lot of sense. Why hadn’t she and Spike started to hunt for the elusive Jan? Why the heck had they even begun to imagine that they were the right people to take charge of such a little girl, even for a short time?

When Xander and Anya finally left, with promises to help if and when needed, Buffy went upstairs and tiptoed into Becca’s room. The child was sprawled across the bed, the patchwork quilt thrown aside. Buffy pulled it up over her shoulders and stood, gazing down at the innocent face. 

A cold hand laid gently on her shoulder. “I think I can see something of Tara in her,” Spike whispered. “But perhaps I’m just imagining it.”

Buffy rubbed her cheek against his fingers. “No, you’re right. There’s a family resemblance, especially with her eyes shut like this. Willow will love her when she sees her.”

“You hope.”

Buffy backed away from the bed, startled, and led him out, back into their own room. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she like Becca?”

Spike flung himself on the bed, linking his hands behind his head. “Oh Slayer, I can think of a lot of reasons - some good, some not so good. Tara lied to her - ”

“Not an actual lie. She just didn’t tell her.”

“That she had a niece whom she was hiding from her father and brother and paying for the privilege into the bargain. Hey, pet, if you hid anything like that for me, I wouldn’t be too happy!”

“But I’m sure there’s all sorts of things about your life that I don’t know about - and don’t want to know,” she added hurriedly as his eyes gleamed up at her.

“That’s totally different, Buffy. That’s all in the very long ago past and you’re welcome to ask if you really want to know. But from the moment we met at the Bronze - well, I don’t think there’s too much about each other we don’t know.”

“OK, that was bad of Tara and yes, OK, I can see that Willow might be upset about that. But what else?”

Spike sighed. He loved the Slayer to the end of infinity and back, but sometimes she was incredibly naive about passion. “Willow adored Tara. Willow tried to end the world because of how much she loved her! That’s a lot of passion swirling around inside one very powerful witch. But the passion burnt itself out. The world didn’t end. Willow recovered her senses and is going forward into a new life. Old passion is a difficult enough quality to live with, but old dead passion - nasty stuff. And to have a reminder in front of you every day - to see Becca, who looks a lot like Tara - I think Willow will find it bloody hard to cope.”

“So what do we do?”

Spike reached up and pulled her down next to him. “First of all we make love, because hey, several hours since we did and a bloke gets hungry for goodies. Then, and it pains me to say it, we take Xander’s advice and go hunting for Becca’s mother.”

Buffy began to ask another question, then his lips and hands turned her brain to mush and she forgot that she wanted to know what the cat had to do with the problem. And she and Spike were far too involved to notice a dark shape that padded along the tree branch outside their window, gazing in at their entwined bodies with gleaming green eyes, then leaping in silently at Becca’s window to take up silent guard at the end of her bed.

The next day brought dark clouds and wind. Spike reckoned it was dull enough to make a dash for the car and then to head into Tara’s apartment block with Buffy. Dawn had reluctantly agreed to stay at home to look after Becca, helped by the ten dollars Spike had slipped her when Buffy wasn’t looking. She’d promised faithfully not to open any door or window unless it was for Xander or Anya - and Buffy was even a little unhappy about Anya.

Tara’s room was just as they had left it. “We were so surprised by the letter that we stopped searching,” Buffy said, angry with herself. “Check everything for some mention of Jan Maclay - phone number, address, e mail, anything. I can’t believe that Tara didn’t contact her at some time during the past three years to tell her how Becca was.”

Spike was already turning out the desk drawers ontop of the bed and rifling through the contents. “Nothing here, pet. No address book, no diary. Nothing.”

Buffy, remembering some of Dawn’s little habits, pulled back the mattress and searched underneath, but came up empty handed. The tiny bathroom held no secrets and the two old purses on a shelf just smelt faintly of vanilla and carnation. 

She slumped back on the bed and stared round the dusty little room, trying to put herself into Tara’s shoes.

“So - I want to hide something - something small, I reckon. A piece of paper, maybe a letter. But nothing big.”

“Perhaps there never was anything, pet. Perhaps Tara just remembered where Jan was living.”

Buffy shook her head. “People move around, change their phone numbers all the time. She would have made a note, I know she would.”

Spike frowned and ran his fingers through his hair, turning it into a mass of white gold curls. “You know, Slayer, when you think about it, there was no need for her to hide it, whatever it was! No one else came here. She lived with Willow and then at Ravello. And I reckon the Maclays have always known where Becca was. That explains Donny coming to Sunnydale to search for her. It didn’t take them long to find out she wasn’t in L.A. any more. They probably aren’t the slightest bit interested in Jan, just Becca.”

“But why would they leave her at Patsy’s if they knew where she was?”

“Well, for a start, they weren’t having to pay for her upkeep or for someone to look after her during the day while she was a baby. They were laughing all the way if Tara was footing the bill for them. But now, for some reason, they want the kid. And I’m bloody well sure it isn’t to play happy families!”

Buffy bit her lip. It made sense. “So, I’m Tara - “ She got up. “I come home one day and want to speak to Jan.” She glanced round and realised the house phone was on the kitchen wall. “I go into the kitchen...pick up the phone....” She gazed round. There was an out of date calendar on the wall next to the phone and on the hook next to it, a pad for shopping lists, with a sad little entry of “milk, bagels, thyme” still written on the first sheet. Buffy picked it up, flicked through the empty pages, then turned it over, looked across at Spike and grinned.

The car barrelled down the road, out past the Welcome to Sunnydale sign, deep into the empty countryside. “There should be a track somewhere on the right,” Buffy said, squinting in the darkened interior to see the map clearly. “Jan should be living somewhere at the end of the track.”

“How on earth could Tara have come all this way without a poxy car of her own,” Spike growled. 

“I expect there’s a bus, say twice a day. And cabs. Have you ever even been on a bus?”

“Sweetheart, there is no form of transport in the world I haven’t experienced. Hey, I was even on submarine once upon a time. I was....” He stopped, realising that perhaps that part of his life wouldn’t show him at his most heroic to the woman he loved.

“I still think we should have gone home and collected Becca. Her mom must be desperate to know what’s happened to her. Hey, she might not even know that she’s in Sunnydale.”

“The kid’s safer at home. I can’t say I’d ever trust Harris to win in a fight, but him and demon girl make a good combination in the saving house and home category.”

Buffy peered out of the window as they jolted along a track, brushing aside weeds that caught and snagged at the underside of the car. “No one’s been along here for months.”

“Getting darker, too. Going to rain, pet. And rain hard.”

Just then they rounded a corner and Spike braked sharply to stop running into a pair of tall metal gates, set in a high stone wall. The big padlock across the gates made it very plain that visitors were not welcome.

Buffy got out and tugged at the chain. The gates were old but the chain and lock were very new. Just then lightning cracked across a purple sky and great fat drops of rain thudded down into the dust. Within seconds the track had turned to a sea of mud and every stitch of clothing she wore was soaked.

Swearing viciously, Spike grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shelter of the wall. “The track’s going to be a stream in minutes,” he shouted above the rolling claps of thunder. “The car could be washed away. We need to get under shelter.”

“Can’t go into the trees. Lightning all around.”

“OK, then up and over, pet. Pretend you’re Becca’s cat.”

“What? Oh, I see.”

Spike bent, grasped her foot and with a smooth burst of power, sent her flying up and up towards the top of the wall. She grasped the stones and pulled herself across, reached down and grabbed his hand as he leapt upwards. But she hadn’t allowed for the wind that now reached them once they were out of the shelter of the wall and with a yell they both fell crashing to the ground below.

 

tbc.


	6. Fangs and Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike and Buffy are searching for Jan, little Becca's mother. They have a clue of an address left by Tara but when they reach the place, they are faced with stone walls and high locked gates. But that is not enough to keep out a determined Slayer!

Everyone has Secrets by Lilachigh

Chapter Six. Fangs and Fury

 

Mud and more mud - rain lashing against her face, Buffy felt her jeans tear across the knees as she leapt from the top of the wall and hit the ground, wincing at the bite of gravel against her skin. She gasped as another deluge of spray hit her, as the hem of Spike’s duster flicked her across the mouth. She could hardly see as she was pulled to her feet. But she knew the cold hand that grasped hers - let’s face it, she thought fleetingly, she’d have known that grip even on her deathbed, which might be fairly soon if she didn’t get into some sort of shelter.

Spike’s arm was tight around her waist and together they half ran, half limped up the track, away from the great iron gates. The black clouds overhead had almost turned the day into night and she knew she was relying on the vampire to guide them. 

A couple of hundred yards further on, the path rose steeply to cross a little bridge. “Get under there, Slayer,” Spike yelled against the roar of the storm and half dragged her down the slope, mud flying into their faces and soaking through their boots, until they crawled through a waterfall thundering down from above, under the stone pillars of the bridge, out of the wind and deluge.

Buffy tried to squeeze water out of her hair - the band holding it back had vanished. “You OK?”

Spike bent over, hands on knees, gasping. “I’ll survive, pet. Except for mud in places I’d rather not mention! You?”

“Scraped knees, soaked through and yes, muddy. But it could have been much worse.”

“Your lip’s bleeding.” He bent forward, eyes gleaming in the gloom and, before she could move, he licked the trickle of blood from her chin.

Buffy felt a flood of warmth across her body and forced herself to pull away slightly. If he looked at her like that for much longer, she knew she wouldn’t be responsible for what might happen.

“This is a weird storm, Spike. Came out of nowhere, just as we reached the gates.”

“Some sort of poxy magical defense system?”

“Could be. Any casual visitor would turn and head back home.”

Spike grinned. “We might do many things, Slayer, but we certainly don’t do casual.”

“The car’s probably floated away several miles by now. Whatever else we find, we need a phone to ring home and get some transport out here.”

Spike peered out from under the bridge. “It’s almost stopped raining but still dark enough that I don’t burn up into a tidy little crisp! We’re good to go.”

Side by side, they climbed out of the gully and headed across the bridge and along the track, splashing through deep puddles. Thick trees bordered the path and tendrils of thorns reached out to snag at their clothes as they passed. “Can you see a house?” Buffy said at last as the path suddenly became steeper. 

“No, but I think we’re nearly at the top. Probably other side of this hill.”

“Tara can’t possibly have come out here regularly. No car’s been along this track for ages.”

“We’ll soon know, Slayer. There’s fewer trees and I reckon the house should be just over - ” Spike skidded to a halt at the top of the hill and stared silently out across the rough ground that sloped down to where the high stone wall that encircled the property marked the boundary. There was no gate here, just blank stone and also - no house. No building of any kind.

“Not expecting that,” Spike grunted.

“That’s weird. There must be something there - hey, perhaps it’s invisible!”

“So if we run straight down this hill, we’ll go crash into a wall?”

Buffy glared at him. “Have you got a better plan? We can’t stay here all day. We’ve got to get home sometime tonight. Dawn will be frantic and Xander will be worried sick.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Well, Slayer, I certainly don’t want to do anything to upset Xander! But OK, Dawnie worried is not a good plan. But listen, pet. I don’t know a lot about that type of magic, but enough power to hide a house and probably the people inside it? That’s going to take a lot of mojo. I think I’d be able to sense it and - there’s nothing.”

Buffy sat down on the wet grass and stared down the hillside. It was getting darker again; big clouds rolling and building, blackening the sky. “You don’t build a wall round an empty space and you don’t put in a big gate with locks and have some sort of magical storm activated to guard nothing. It doesn’t make sense.”

Spike threw himself down next to her and absentmindedly wrapped his arm round her shoulders. “This whole bloody adventure doesn’t make sense, pet. Tara had the address of this place written down next to Jan’s name.”

“But I don’t think she ever came out here,” Buffy said thoughtfully. “I told you earlier - no car has been driven down that track for years. And Tara was a sweet girl, but hey, no athlete. She’d never have walked all this way.”

“So just phoned? Or wrote little notes, telling Jan how Becca was getting on? Birthday cards, Christmas pressies? You can’t tell me she had no contact all these years.”

“That makes a sort of sense. Mom kept lots of things that we gave her when we were tiny. Silly pictures, crayon drawings, photos.” Her mind flared with memories of a happier time but even as she let herself remember, she knew she mustn’t because that was the way weakness crept in. “But letters mean a mail box. Haven’t seen one of those, either.” Then another thought burnt its way into her brain. “Jeez, Spike, we’re missing the obvious. I hate to think it, but perhaps Jan’s dead, too! That might be why Tara left her where she was, being looked after in L.A. She might have been going to tell Willow and then there was all the Warren mess and...”

Suddenly Spike swirled to his feet. Buffy glanced up at him, startled. He had an odd expression on his face. If she hadn’t known him so well, she’d have said he looked afraid. Which was ridiculous, of course, because hey, Big Bad, Scourge of Europe, vampire boy. Nothing scared Spike. Getting to her feet, she linked her arm through his. “What’s up?”

“Just remembering, pet. And sensing. Nothing above ground, but if I try really hard, I can tell that underneath the earth.....”

“What?”

“Memory - another time, few years back. Underground place, all hidden away. Guards, walls, locks, death and destruction. My destruction.”

Buffy’s breath caught in her throat. “The Initiative? You’re talking about - ”

“Cages, pet. Prisoners, government high jinks. Tests and torture.”

“You mean - Jan - she might be - ”

But Spike was already striding down the hill into the growing gloom. Buffy raced to catch him up. “There must be an entrance somewhere. Slow down, Spike. We’ll find it but we need to take it slowly.”

Spike fought to control the anger that was flooding through him, burning his very being with a heat he hadn’t felt for centuries. He’d learnt to exist with the sodding chip in his brain, but it wasn’t living, not as a vampire should live. And yes, it made things easier with Buffy because he couldn’t harm humans, but she would never ever really know how much of his identity Professor Walsh and those other government bastards had taken from him. One thing they hadn’t taken was his memories: of the screaming and shouting, the babbling of those driven to insanity, the pleas for mercy from those poor fools who thought they might get a nice clean stake through the heart rather than being tied down on a gurney and.....

He was suddenly aware of Buffy standing in front of him, blocking the way. “Slayer....! Get out of my way.”

“I said slow down, Spike! You’ll have to go through me if you don’t and you know I can beat you.”

“Only because of what they did to me.”

“You don’t even know it is a sort of Initiative. You’re guessing. It could be demons, another Glory, jeez, Spike it could be a nice, brand new, gleaming monster. Perhaps the Mayor back to play his little games with us. Whatever, we make a plan. We don’t rush in all fangs and fury.”

The green of her gaze seemed to cut mercilessly through the red haze that had dropped over his eyes. He swayed a little and felt her hand reach out for his, her fingers warm against his cold skin.

“If Jan is in there, she can’t possibly be alive after all this time,” he said at last. “If she was a prisoner, they could have done anything to her.”

Buffy started to speak then stopped. She wanted to ask him when did prisoners give out their address to friends and why the heck hadn’t Tara told her or Willow or anyone about this. Just hiding Becca away to keep her from her father was one thing, but keeping some illegal prison secret didn’t seem possible, not for the Tara she remembered. But Buffy also knew that when Spike was in this mood, the last thing he wanted to do was think rationally or logically. 

“OK, let’s start looking for the way in. A hatch of some sort, I suppose. A trap-door thingy.”

Spike nodded and they began to search the ground, kicking and stamping, staring at the rough vegetation, trying to spot any peculiar dead patches that might cover an entrance to an underground facility. It was raining hard again and as the minutes slipped by, Buffy felt a wave of weariness cross her. She was cold and wet and shivering and they had found nothing. The ground between the bottom of the hillside and the stone wall had been searched by both of the twice over and they had found nothing.

“Spike - it’s getting late. Look, we’ll come back tomorrow, with the others. Anya’s good at sensing things and Xander can always find a demon when he wants one!”

He shook himself, trying to force the pictures and memories from his mind. She was right, he knew that, even though every fibre in his body wanted him to go on looking. Buyt he could see how cold she was, exhaustion written across her face. Nodding in silent, reluctant agreement, he turned towards the hill to trudge back up the slope and then froze. It was almost completely dark now and for an instant a sliver of light had shown itself against the side of the hill.

“Bollocks! It isn’t underground, Buffy!”

“What do you mean?”

“It isn’t underground - it’s inside the sodding hill!”

 

tbc


	7. Just a touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike are determined to find Jan, Becca's mother. A clue has brought them to a wild, deserted hillside where Spike guesses that what they seek is inside the mountain. Buffy is upset that he hopes it is some sort of Initiative that can remove the chip from his brain.

Everyone Has Secrets

by Lilachigh

 

Chapter 7 Just a touch

Buffy stared at the steep slope in front of them - “Inside the hill?”

“Yes, makes sense. If they had to bring in some sort of equipment, then it’s far easier to carry it through a door than down a vertical ladder.”

She bit her lip. Spike’s voice had an odd note in it - a sort of desperation, an elation as if something he thought was lost had suddenly been found. She guessed that he’d made up his mind they were going to find another sort of Initiative and she had no idea how she was going to control him if they did. Or even if she should. And burning away at the back of her mind was the realisation that he still minded so deeply about the chip in his head. That he wanted to be a proper vampire again, one who could kill and feed and turn humans. She realised in a flash that she’d stupidly thought he was happy now as he was; that being with her, unable to hurt her friends, was enough for him. Oh, how wrong she obviously was!

She watched now as he paced away from her, kicking at the grassy slope, stamping with ever increasing force, searching for a doorway. Every man she’d ever cared for had left her - not that she cared for Spike in that way, she hastened to add to herself - but he was still extremely useful and she had no doubts that as soon as he found a way to get the chip out of his head, he would be away, to live another life, far from her and Sunnydale.

“Slayer!” Now a note of triumph. “Found it.”

On the far side of the slope, Spike was gazing at the grass. A few twiggy weeds sprouted out of the earth and there, buried beneath them, was the gleam of metal - a lock. Spike was pulling at the earth and moss - it came away too easily; it was obvious that the door had been opened recently and the moss replaced around the edge of the frame.

“Way in, Buffy.”

She ran her fingers across the lock - it looked old, well oiled, but old. “Do you remember seeing any key at Tara’s apartment that would fit this?”

For reply, Spike’s leg shot out and a heavily booted foot crashed against the lock, which snapped back and open with a shudder. “Not going back to look, pet. Come on!”

Before Buffy could stop him, he’d pushed the door open and stepped inside. Using a word her mom would have been extremely annoyed to have heard, Buffy followed him. “Slow down, Spike. We’ve no idea what’s in here.”

“Long tunnel so far, Slayer.”

And even as he spoke, faint lights, obviously controlled by their presence, switched on to illuminate a narrow passage, tiled in green and cream and smelling -

“Can you smell that, Buffy?”

She sniffed. “Kind of hospitally?”

“Just like the Initiative.”

“Jeez Spike, you can’t possibly remember that.”

The vampire shrugged and strode on, his footsteps echoing in the enclosed space. It would be pointless trying to explain to Buffy that his sense of smell wasn’t just enhanced, but memories were etched deeply in his brain and nothing would ever wipe them out.

“This can’t be the main way in, Spike. What you said earlier, about needing access, you’d never get even a desk down this passage.”

He nodded. “Can you hear anything?”

She shook her head, knowing that if he couldn’t, then she certainly wouldn’t.

“A very faint humming - it’s coming from beneath us.”

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Buffy said sarcastically. “Why are mysterious, probably evil, things always underground in the dark? Why can’t they build them high up, with lots of sunlight and windows and - ” She stopped as his hand shot out to clamp her arm. Set in the wall of the passage was a door and this time Spike just needed to turn the handle for it to swing open. Now even Buffy could hear the humming sound. A flight of circular metal steps led down into the dark but once again, dim lights in the roof came on to give just enough illumination to show that the steps led down, twisting and turning for hundreds of feet into the gloom below.

“If you want to go back, make Niblet and Xander happy, then I’ll go on alone.”

Buffy hesitated: she knew the sensible thing to do was retreat, get reinforcements, work out a plan of action that would protect Becca and help find Jan. But reinforcements usually meant she spent half her time looking after them and that, at least, was one thing she didn’t have to worry about when it was just Spike at her side. Which was really weird but she wouldn’t think about that today.

“Jeez, Spike, let’s just do it. Stop wasting time.”

An eyebrow shot up higher than ever. “Well, Slayer, as happy as I am to “do it” wherever and whenever you like, a spiral staircase suspended above nothing might even tax my powers of dedication!”

“Pig! Super pig! You know very well what I meant.” Buffy glared at him and before he could stop her, she pushed past him and was three or four turns down the steps before he could move. Their footsteps rang out in tandem as they hurtled round and round, down the steps, lights switching on as they passed, then turning off again. 

“There’s no need to go off in a snit. Just because you’re aching for it, Slayer. No harm in that.” Spike’s voice echoed down the stairs behind her and she made her feet move even faster to get away from him. Sometimes he irritated her beyond belief. Why was everything about sex with him? OK, they had sex - quite often, if she was honest - but that’s all it was. They didn’t make love. There was no love. None. Just physical wants, like an itch but oh god, even now, turning round and round the everlasting staircase, Buffy knew she was fighting having to stop, reach for him, let him hold her while she swung her legs up round his waist and let him plunder her, on and on and on until the red mists exploded inside her over and over again.

For a second her foot slipped and she clutched at the wall beside her, trying not to think about having to climb all the way back up at some time. Perhaps there would be an elevator, a nice friendly elevator with a button that said “Push me” and....she swung to an abrupt halt as Spike reached out and grabbed her shoulder. 

“Dizzy!” she gasped and realised he was holding her as tight as possible as they both swayed violently in the whirlwind of their own making. “Should have slowed down.”

“No, it’s something we’re breathing. The air tastes odd. And look - ” He gestured downwards and Buffy could see that rising up from below them was a blue mist that churned and spun, from sapphire to cobalt, from navy to sky. And then it was all around them and she could no longer even see Spike’s face and only the pressure of his hands on her body told her he was there, the one strong constant in her world.

“What the heck is it? Not gas. Not choking.”

“Some sort of magic, pet. Do we go back up or carry on down?”

Buffy hesitated. She couldn’t see the steps in either direction but going back up to the entrance seemed like giving up on Jan and whatever trouble she was in that had made her abandon her daughter. At least they owed Becca and Tara’s memory more than capitulation.

“Down. The answers are there somewhere. And you can let me go now. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”

“Down it is and if you think for one moment that I’m going to let go of you in this fog, you are truly delusional, Slayer.”

For a moment she was tempted to argue but she had the feeling that this was one fight she wasn’t going to win and so his hand was on her, so what. It was just a touch. His fingers had been inside her only hours ago!

Slowly they carried on down the stairway, Spike’s touch never leaving her shoulder and with a flash of what she supposed Willow would call intuition, she knew he would always have her back, no matter what the circumstances.

Long minutes later she realised there were no more steps. “I think the mist is thinning, Slayer. I can see the back of your neck.” 

She jumped as cold lips pressed against her warm flesh. “Stop it!” she hissed, trying to sound annoyed and failing dismally. “Can you see anything? I’m not walking any further. We might be on the edge of some skanky cliff for all I know.”

“Light over there, pet. Sort of glowing. And coming towards us!”

Buffy pulled a stake from her belt. The likelihood of it being a vampire was tiny but she hadn’t lived this long as Slayer without learning that it was the tiny percentages that could kill you.

The light grew larger, rounder: it floated through the air and Buffy found herself stepping backwards to avoid it. But there was no escape. It flowed round her and Spike, the mist vanished and she could see the vampire clearly again. She spun round so they were back to back, watching as the air shimmered with gold and silver lights. It should have been beautiful to look at but she was acutely aware that what she really felt was sea-sick.

“I think it’s some sort of probe,” Spike muttered, turned his head to watch as a tiny silver light ran up Buffy’s arm, hesitated at her neck, then vanished into her hair.

“Checking us out?”

“Seems that way, Slayer. Finding out if we’ve got weapons, or even if we’re really human, I suppose.”

Buffy waved the stake in the air but there was no response. 

“I think it’s probably programmed for more than a piece of wood, pet!”

“Remind me to bring something shinier and sharper next time. Jeez, how much more do they want to know about me?” she snapped as a silver light ran up the inside of her jeans leg. “Hey! Listen, if someone’s there - ”

“Or something - ”

“Shut up, Spike. Not helping!”

“If you’re listening, we’re not here to hurt you - we’re looking for a girl called Jan Maclay. A woman, I mean. Not a little girl. Is she here?”

“Go away.” The words were more a musical chime than a real voice, but their meaning was quite clear.

“We will do when you tell us about Jan. We’re not here to cause trouble.”

“Not her time. Go away - now.”

Buffy stared at Spike. “What the heck does that mean? Not her time? So she is here.”

“Wherever here is, pet. This mist brings back memories....some place out in Prague that Dru and I crashed in one night. We woke up two weeks later. Mind you, recently, after some of the things you’ve done to me, I could sleep for days on end as well.”

“I do nothing to you. And I so do not want to know about your sordid sex adventures with that skanky ho!” She pulled away from him and tried to walk out of the glowing mist ball, desperate to find someone human to talk to. But the second she touched the sides of the orb, tentacles reached out from the swirling energy and began to pull her firmly towards something she couldn’t see or hear, only feel. And that feeling was fear - fear and anger.

 

tbc


	8. The Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Spike have gone underground to find Becca's mother, Jan. But they have been captured.

Everyone Has Secrets

by Lilachigh

 

Chapter 8 The Portal

The atmosphere in the family room was not good: Xander’s endless stream of frantic chatter had, finally, died away and now he sat, whittling a piece of wood into another stake for Buffy when she came home. If she came home.

“It’s getting really late now,” Dawn said, sitting on the stairs and refusing to go to bed. “They should be back by now.”

“It isn’t late for Buffy. They’ll be patrolling - killing demons, dusting vamps, all the usual fun of the fair.”

“Perhaps you should go look for them.”

Anya looked up from the magazine she was reading. “That is so not a good idea, Dawnie. They could be anywhere in Sunnydale. Our job is to stay here to look after you and the child.”

Dawn bit her lip hard. If it wasn’t for Becca, she knew she could persuade Xander to take her with him on a hunt for Buffy. “I still don’t understand why we couldn’t give her back to her father. I know he was horrid to Tara, but he is Becca’s dad. He’d take care of her. And he even said she was in danger. So he must care about her.”

Xander dug too viciously with his knife at the piece of wood and it splintered into shards. Sighing, he swept them into a pile. “Buffy doesn’t want him to have anything to do with Becca.”

“Legally, that could be really awkward,” Anya said brightly. “What do we do if he comes back with a policeman - two policemen!”

“I’ll phone Giles. I’m sure he’ll deal with it until Buffy gets back. Meanwhile, the kid’s safe upstairs in bed asleep and we - well, we’ll just wait. You should go to bed, too, Dawnie. Buffy will be furious when she gets home and finds you still up.”

But Dawn just shrugged and ignored him. Of course she was pleased she hadn’t given Becca to Donny, but life would have been so much nicer if she had. It was all the silly cat’s fault!

Upstairs, Becca tossed and turned, half asleep, half awake. If she was dreaming, then they weren’t happy dreams of rainbows and ice-cream. Sitting by the window, the big black cat turned slitted green eyes to stare at her, then turned his gaze back to the dark world outside, almost as if he was waiting for something, a sign, a message.....

Miles away, Buffy and Spike had stopped fighting the energy tentacles that held them fast, pulling them through the glowing layers of the light globe that surrounded them - white brilliance burnt her eyes and she managed to turn her head enough to check that whatever this light was, it wasn’t burning Spike to a crisp! She shut her eyes against the glare and tried to take in small gasps of the air that stung her lips and mouth with an acid tang. Then, must as she thought she would choke, the white light vanished, the tentacles loosened and she found herself falling onto a hard, smooth surface, Spike tumbling after her.

With a leap she was on her feet, stake in hand, crouched, ready for fight. She felt Spike at her back, was aware of the swish of his leather coat as he swung round to check out who was about to attack them.

There was still light streaming from the energy globe that was beginning to shrink. It showed - nothing - black expanse that stretched away, cold metal under their feet, walls of some metal, dull and boring. A room without end and Buffy shuddered as the globe finally shrivelled into nothing and the dark fell completely upon them. 

“Spike?”

“Right here, pet.” The voice at her ear sent a quiver through her. “Hang on a sec.”

She could feel him fumbling in a pocket and then he clicking of his lighter. He might not smoke too much around her anymore, but she knew the lighter was always with him.  
Now the yellow flame shone on the angles and planes of his face and gleamed in his eyes. And he was grinning.

“What’s funny?”

“Us,” came the brief answer. “Why does nothing we ever do together ever end well? Hey, let me rephrase that! Some things we do end brilliantly every time.” 

Buffy tried not to smile, but couldn’t help herself. “What’s annoying is that we start out with the best intentions, like this time, and now look what’s happened.”

“This place is weird, pet. Floor, walls, all fairly modern, but that glowy thing, didn’t feel like demon. Something else. And I’ve not a bloody clue what.”

“Did you feel something when it pulled us through?”

“Yes, fear. Big time fear.”

Buffy nodded. “So someone or something is scared of us. Well, they should be. Why don’t they come out and show themselves?”

Suddenly a blast of freezing air surrounded them, the flame from the lighter snapped out and for a few seconds the darkness seemed to cling to their faces, smothering, choking, draining all life out their bodies. Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the icy blast eased and Buffy realised there were two figures outlined in the dark, glowing orange around the shape of their bodies.

Slowly the dark began to fade and a pale pinkish light began to glow from the ceiling. The shapes solidified into what appeared to be a woman and a man, although Buffy was quite certain neither of them were human. They both had smooth dark hair and blank white faces.

“What do you want here?”

“And good evening to you, too,” she snapped. “What the heck is this place and who are you?”

“We are The Others. You should not be here. You have no place with The Others. You are Beyond.”

Buffy glanced at Spike and mouthed the word to him, but he shook his head. “Told you, pet. This place is modern but they aren’t.”

“We’re looking for a young woman, her name is Jan. We think she might be here somewhere. Do you know her?”

“You should go away. You are not wanted here.”

Buffy took a deep breath. She had no idea how dangerous these creatures could be, but she could sense great power and still that overwhelming feeling of fear. “Look, we want to leave here just as much as you want us gone, but we’re not going without some answers. Jan Maclay - is she your prisoner? We know she’s here somewhere.”

There was a long silence; the orange borders around the shapes flared back and forth and Buffy was certain they were communicating with each other without words.

“I don’t think they know what to do, pet,” Spike muttered. “We could try rushing them.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, we’ve no idea what weapons they have. Jeez, give me a good old fashioned vamp or demon any day. At least you can usually see by the fangs and teeth and tentacles exactly what you’re fighting. Listen, Mr and Miss Other, Jan has a little girl. Is she in danger? Why did my friend take her away from her family?”

The orange flares grew more and more agitated and the woman stepped forward. “You have the child? She is safe? Can you bring her to us?”

“Oh yes, we’re going to do that! Like not.”

“The child must be kept safe.” More orange flickering, then, “Come with us.”

“At least we all seem to be agreed about protecting Becca,” Buffy muttered. 

“Just watch your step, Slayer. I can’t sense anything from these things. They’re cloaked in some way.”

Buffy flashed him a glance as they followed the pulsing shapes. “Oh not more gods like Glory, surely? Not in the mood to die again today.”

Spike didn’t even try to smile. That day, the tower, Glory, Ben, the Doctor, the whole bloody mess was still too raw, too vastly painful, even though she was now back with him again. One thing he did know, if this was a demon god thing then this time he would protect her with his unlife. And this time he wouldn’t fail.

Their footsteps were echoing on the metal floor although the shapes ahead of them seemed to flow silently onwards. “Does this place still smell like the Initiative?”

Spike shook his head. “I don’t think so. I get the feeling no one’s been down here for years though. I reckon it’s some sort of old army or airforce base that’s been shut up and left. Perhaps from the Cold War days when your government thought the Russians were going to nuke the States. A lot of shelters were built then all over America and Europe.”

“The Others don’t sound Russian.”

At last a grin broke over Spike’s face. “I reckon they’re a long way from home, pet, but it certainly isn’t the gold old U S S of R. And it’s not another Initiative.”

Buffy could hear the bitter disappointment in his voice. She didn’t know what to say: had he really believed they were going to find some place down here where they could take the chip out of his head? And why did he mind so much? Was being able to kill humans so important to him? Well, being with her was obviously not enough. Good old Buffy Summers, the girl who was never quite good enough for a guy. After a while, she realised she hadn’t replied and said instead, “We must have walked miles.”

“Well, at least half of one. You need more exercise, Slayer. I know one or two fun things we could do to tone up your muscles!”

Buffy swung her fist effortlessly towards him and grinned as he ducked and cursed. Why didn’t she feel it was weird that here they were, striding out towards goodness knew what battle and yet it felt like coming home, a comfort that she couldn’t fathom or understand.

“We’re coming to somewhere.” Spike’s words broke into her thoughts - he was right - up ahead the dark began to glow orange and apricot, peach and mauve as an opening grew in size and the two dark figures vanished through it without another sound. “Right, do we stay or do we go?”

Buffy hesitated: she could see nothing through the swirling apricot mist. There was no way of knowing what lay on the other side. She would cheerfully back her and Spike against any number of demons or vamps, but this was different. If she died, what would happen to Dawn? Yes, she wanted to help Becca and Jan but surely her first loyalties lay with her sister? Would her father come back from Spain to claim her? Unlikely. Hank would probably have memories of Dawn implanted by the wretched monks, but there would be no connection, no love. How could there be? You might be able to manufacture memories, but not love, not an emotion.

But on the other hand, Dawn was fifteen now, she would survive. Giles, Xander, Willow they would all help. But Becca was just a little girl without anyone to look after her except Donny, a father from whom she’d been hidden for years. OK, if she died in the next few minutes, then whatever Tara had been trying to do would all have been wasted and Donny would claim his daughter. But at least she had to try. Buffy had the strongest feeling that Becca’s life was now in terrible danger. There really was no choice.

She hesitated for a second or two longer, wondering exactly what Spike’s response would be if she told him to stay here and wait for her, smiling for an instant as she realised he would probably use swear words she didn’t fully understand! Then she reached out her hand and found his waiting and together they stepped through the portal.

tbc


End file.
